The Sugar Daddy of Palm Springs

Him.

I never really believed in love until I met him. I was obsessed with everything about him. He had the hottest face and body I'd ever seen on a man. The way he would bend over to look at the books in Barnes and Noble got me sweaty and ready. Ever since I quit my job at the Tipton hotel, my life hasn't been the same. I had no money, no motivation, and a zero chance at love. But he changed it all for me.

It was just a typical day at Barnes and Noble. I was rearranging books in the back aisles of the store, just like I usually do. As I was pulling a book out of the shelf, something grabbed my shoulder. It was him. Mr. Bitters. My soulmate. He pulled me close to him and took an envelope out of his pocket. Before I could open it, he ran away to the front of the store, tripping in the process and knocking over a shelf onto a small child. Ah, he's perfect ♥️.

My lunch break had finally come around, and I decided to open the envelope. It was a large business card decorated with pictures of him lustfully washing a car. Damn. The card read, "Come to my place tonight at 8:00. Love always: Big Daddy Bitters." HE INVITED ME TO HIS HOUSE!! OMG!! I CAN'T WAIT! I'm going to go ask my manager if I can leave early cause of a "family emergency." I ran to find my manager Bill and asked him. He said no, but that never stopped anybody. I made sure he wasn't looking and proceeded to exit the building.

Eight o'clock rolls around, and I'm at the front door of his multimillion-dollar mansion. Zamn. Before I can even ring the doorbell, he kicks a hole into the door and drags me in like I'm his prey. He wraps his arm around me and sneezes into my ear. Hot. I haven't even said anything yet. He proceeds to throw me like a football onto the couch. Panting and out of breath, he asks me, "Mosbey, may I ask you a question?" I gulp and nervously nod. "Can I be your sugar daddy?" Oh. My. God. How do I even respond to that?! That's all I've ever wanted! "YES YES, I WANT YOU TO BE MY SUGAR DADDY!" He walks over to the couch and tries to take off his Big Time Rush shirt. He's struggling, but it's okay. I get impatient and rip it off of him. His exposed torso smells somewhat good, kind of like candy. Maybe it's some new funky cologne. Either way, it's making me rather hungry. As he's about to get onto the couch with me, he knocks over a lit candle on it. I immediately jumped off the couch and pushed my big daddy out of my way. He landed on the couch. Directly on top of the flames of the candle. The entire room started to smell like peppermint. He wasn't moving. Red and white "blood" began to drip out of him. I ran to the kitchen to get a container to put some of it in. I was planning to make some cookies this week. The entire room was on fire at this point. I ran outside and stole his vintage convertible, and drove away. That's right. I'm the Palm Springs sugar daddy killer. And this is MY town.